


It won't take long

by dulce_melos



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 07:55:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6230119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dulce_melos/pseuds/dulce_melos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pepper gets a call from Tony - he has an emergency and he needs her help. Tony's definition of an emergency and Pepper's definition are two very different things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It won't take long

**Author's Note:**

> Ironman and its characters belong to Marvel. No infringement is intended; no profit is being made.
> 
> This is an older fic, originally posted on fanfiction that I'm cross-posting here. To any who haven't seen it yet, I hope you enjoy!

The sun was gorgeous, a golden yellow. The sky was clear of clouds and just about the bluest blue she’d ever seen it. Pepper’s modestly swim-suited form was dappled with the shade from the tree behind her. She sighed luxuriantly. 

Wiggling her toes where they met the sand, she reached over to the little table next to her beach chair, grabbed the Mai Tai sitting there (moving the little umbrella aside) and took a deep pull of the ice-cold fruity drink. She dropped her head back and listened to the rustle of the leaves above her, the crash of the waves in front of her, the cry of gulls in the distance and relished the smell of the ocean. This was the best vacation she’d had in … forever.

Then the phone rang.

Waking blearily, Pepper shifted and dragged her eyes open. Oh. She wasn’t on a beach. No breeze, no ocean. No Mai Tai. She sighed. Reaching over, she picked up the madly vibrating phone on her bedside table. “Pepper Potts.” She said it out of habit, even though it was after hours and she knew very well who it was. It was Mr. Stark’s ringtone. 

“Pepper! You’re up. Good.”

“Well, actually…”

“I need you. It’s urgent.” Her sleepy mind registered that his voice didn’t sound right.

Suddenly more alert, her heart sped up as she looked at the clock on her bedside table. Tony rarely bothered her at home, and virtually never at this hour. “Mr. Stark. It’s 3:15. Are you okay?” Terrifying thoughts of malfunctioning arc reactors and Stark Industries errant weapon retrieval missions gone wrong swirled through her now-alarmed mind, with visions of bent metal, bullet holes and the smell of burnt electronics. 

He didn’t answer. 

“Tony…are you there?” She threw the bed sheets off and began scrambling around her room in the dark, trying to change her clothes one-handed. Where did I put my purse?? “Tony??” Her mind frantically calculated how long it would take her to drive to Stark mansion. Should she call Rhodey?

Her attention was wrenched back when he finally responded, “Oh, is it that late already?” She realized he sounded not distressed, but distracted. “Oh yes. I’m fine.” A grunt and a crash, accompanied with the sound of something breaking. “Crap! …But I need your help. How long will it take you to run into town?”

The thudding of her heart slowed as she realized he was in engineer mode. She set her purse down. “Mr. Stark, it’s 3:15. In. The. Morning. I was sleeping.” She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Please tell me this isn’t something that could have waited just a few more hours.”

Pepper’s honey-sweet “I’m trying to be patient but you’re driving me insane” tone of voice must have gotten through to him, because he said, “Miss Potts, please. I’m sorry I woke you, but I’ve hit a wall .. I can’t seem to break it .. I need your help .. please.” 

He’d better not mean he’s hit an actual wall. They still haven’t finished fixing the roof. Of course, she noted sourly, he’s used the most sorrowful “please-you’ve-got-to-help-me-you’re-the-only-one-I-can-depend-on” tone of voice and as a result Pepper couldn’t help but be absolutely exasperated and completely unable to do anything but sigh and say, “…what do you need?” 

“I am completely out of coffee.”

* * *

Pepper slammed the car door and threw her purse into the passenger seat. The Audi purred to life, she put it in gear and pulled out into the street. Realizing she was clenching her teeth, she tried to relax – at this rate, she’d give herself a headache. 

Too late. 

She remembered how Tony’s call had ended and sighed. 

“Excuse me? Did you just say you’re out of coffee?”

“Yes, I need you to get me some. It won’t take long.”

“…”

“Pleease?” 

Two little voices had piped up in her head, fighting for dominance. A sweet calm little voice said, “Patience, Pepper. This is your employer. He pays you very well. And he does sound desperate.” This voice was quickly drowned out by an angry, louder voice that yelled, “Damn it, it’s 3am! I’m tired! I already put in a 12-hour day with him! I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care!! Nocoffeeforhim!” In her mind, it was simple. Angry voice … clear winner.

Somehow, and she wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but what was clear in her mind apparently didn’t quite translate into what she said, because the next thing she knew she was stomping downstairs, purse and keys in hand.

The drive to town really didn’t take that long. It was when she found herself in the only store open at 3:45 in the morning that she ran into problems. It is really hard to find forty-five dollar a pound coffee at Safeway. Yes. Definitely a problem. 

“What do you mean you don’t carry the brand??” The put-upon grocery clerk nervously chewed his lip. Apparently he didn’t enjoy being pressured by a tired looking slightly frazzled woman with bloodshot eyes, who, apparently through no real conscious intent had entered his personal space and seemed to be on the verge of snapping.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, we just don’t stock it. Please, can I suggest this brand, a lot of people really like this brand, really. And it’s on sale.” He offered this bit of help while gesturing (a little frantically, she noted) at said sale-brand can-o-coffee, with a little panicked smile. Pepper noticed his gaze was beginning to dart around, as if he were expecting help to materialize any second. Irritated, she thought, ‘What’s he worried about? I’m being perfectly reasonable.’ She followed his gaze to a security camera above them.

Rolling her eyes, she snorted and repeated to herself, ‘perfectly reasonable.’ Grabbing the can he’d indicated, she went to the checkout counter. And the nerve of that guy … acting like I was some kind of crazy person or something. She studiously ignored her reflection as she stepped onto the pad for the exit door.

* * *

A half hour later found Pepper in the presence of greatness. Or rather, in the presence of her boss. Her boss with hair sticking out in odd directions, shirt greasy and bloodshot eyes. “Mr. Stark. What in heaven’s name are you working on at this hour?” The distant sound of percolating coffee drifted into the workshop. 

He looked up at her and blinked. 

She sighed. And her head pounded on.

“Onions.”

“What?”

“Onions. For your head.”

And how did he know I had a headache? Since he hasn’t looked up since I got here? Heaving an even deeper sigh, Pepper made herself at home on the bench at the worktable. It looked like she was going to be here for a while. “Mr. Stark…”

He’d returned his attention to the mass of wires in front of him, but continued in a distracted tone, “natives often used onions as a cure for headaches.”

“Really. Natives of what?”

“Uhh..I don’t remember. But I read somewhere you take the onion extract and massage it into your head where it aches. It’s supposed to help.”

“Really.” What?? Did he just tell me to rub an onion on my head? And he can’t remember where he read it. This is from the man who can remember Pi to eighty-five places. Her tired mind processed this. Nope, the thought of rubbing onion juice into her scalp didn’t really excite her. The thought of her bed excited her. 

Still….her head was pounding. Then she had a vivid image of her hair, plastered to her head with the stuff, maybe with little bits of onion scattered throughout, all the while reeking of raw onion juice. Good lord, what did she do to deserve this? “Although I’m sure it would help, sir, thank you, but I think I’ll stick with Excedrin.” 

“Suit yourself.”

Pepper sat for a moment. Well, actually she zoned-out for a moment, while her boss continued his tinkering. Finally, she roused herself and said, “sir, didn’t you say it was urgent?”

“Mm? Oh, yes. Well, I’ve figured it out now….not to worry, Miss Potts. That will be all.”

She had absolutely no response to that. She looked at him in disbelief. Maybe it was time to pull up that old word document with her resignation letter in it. What was it titled? Oh yeah. “Oh no he didn-t.doc” Shaking her head, she stood up and looked around for her purse. It was in the kitchen. Not saying a word, she left the workroom and headed upstairs.

It took her a moment to collect herself. Leaning against the kitchen counter, she put her pounding head against the cool cabinet and listened to the thrum of her headache. Finally she turned around, prepared to head back home. To bed.

Her boss was standing there, coffee cup in hand. He walked over to her. “Here.” He reached out and took her purse from her. Set it down. Handed her two white pills (they had little e’s on them). “For your head.” There was a little glint of humor in his eyes as he gave her a half-smile. “The onion would have worked, you know.”

“Is that from personal experience?”

“You’ll never know.”

She gave a small laugh and tossed back the Excedrin as she gingerly took a gulp of coffee. It wasn’t too hot, he’d put a little ice in it. How had she not heard him? And cream. And just enough sugar. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Thank you, Miss Potts. For the coffee.” And the look in his eyes told her that his thanks was for more than that.

Smiling, she picked up her purse and watched as he headed back down to the workshop. There was more to Tony Stark than people thought.

Coffee, onions and Excedrin. Not exactly her dream vacation, but the night hadn't been so bad. And it really hadn't taken long.


End file.
